Making Up Lost Time
by Alku04
Summary: ::Oneshot:: The weight of the kingdom and hefty workloads cause Thranduil to unintentionally neglect his son. Now he tries to make up for lost time, but can his bond with Legolas be repaired easily? Mainly an emotional-hurt comfort story.


_**I really enjoyed writing an easy moment between Thranduil and Legolas in my last story "Sapphire Skies and Emerald Trees" so i decided to write another one, this time having Legilas a little older. Nothing grand or magnificent, just a father-son moment.**_

 _ **This oneshot is inspired by the movie versions of the Hobbit. I saw Thranduil as very cold and reserved toward his son, but you could see that he loved Legolas fiercely. I believe that running a kingdom pulled Thranduil and Legolas apart and that is why they seemed too formal with each other in the movies... just my take on it and this story will kind of showcase Thranduil's struggles and how he unintentionally neglects his son then tries to make up for it.**_

 _ **Legolas is about the human equivalent of a 13 year old.**_

 _ **Ada = Dad**_

 _ **Adar = Father**_

 _ **Ion-nin = My son**_

* * *

It was quiet in the king's study and the only bit of movement found in the room came from a single quilled pen. Thranduil was busy putting the tool to work, transcribing his running thoughts to words and the text was scribbled in a hurry.

The grand royal desk was an atrocious sight; books, journals, scripts and letters littered every inch of the dark wood surface, engulfing the stone faced king within its hefty workload. A collection of empty inkwells sat off to the far corner of the table and crumpled parchments were packed into balls that were overflowing from the waste hamper.

The king took the slightest pause in his work to re-dip his pen in the black liquid and his crowned head lifted to ponder over correct phrasing. When he had his statement strung just so, he put the pen to the paper and forged on.

The early morning hours morphed into a mid-day radiance, then the forest was set aglow when the afternoon began to take its hold. Time was lost to the king who worked in his silent office and the world passed by him without much notice.

However, reality snapped back to Thranduil when a form silently approached his desk. The light from the grand windows was blocked out by the unexpected guest and a dark shadow fell across the king and his work. Thranduil blinked a few times before lifting his head up to see who it was that stood before him.

It was a face he had seen so many times when his mind came from the depths of his work, but it puzzled the king regardless.

"Galion?"

The king thought he had given his servant a much needed day off and Thranduil creased his brow, trying to gain his bearings. He dug through his mind to recall if he had somehow mixed his days up or not.

The faithful butler bowed easily, but it lacked the formalities it normally carried when he was on duty. " _Mae Govannen_ , Your Grace."

"What are you doing here?" The king's question was skeptical, cold and reserved. Fatigue always made Thranduil sound harsher than he really was and the butler could easily tell this was the case now. The Woodland king's normally clear eyes were glossy and red from the strain of reading and writing for hours on end, but Galion only smiled to his lord, ignoring the terse words that were surely misspoken.

"My lord... I think you may want to give your work a rest and come see this." the servant said and it caused the confused lines in the king's face to deepen.

"I am busy, Galion." Thranduil said and raised a thick brow, indicating that it was not up to the butler to deem what Thranduil did and when. Though the two were close and the servant was considered a friend, Thranduil's edge was ridged today and he did not want to be bothered.

"Understood my lord, but I must insist... It is about your son-"

Thranduil's eyes went wide before the servant could even finish what he had to say and the king watched intently.

Galion held his hands up in a gesture of peace to show there were no emergencies. Rather, the soft smile on the butler's face turned warm in thought.

"All is well my lord... You deemed Legolas ready to begin bow practice a few months ago... today is his first lesson. Being as your workload has kept you detained, I thought I would accompany him in your stead. And..." Galion could not quite find the words to describe the rest of what he wanted say and shook his head slightly while still smiling.

"And what?" the king pressed. Despite hearing there was nothing wrong, he could not shake the unexplainable dread forming. It was at Legolas' persistence that Thranduil caved in letting the prince join bow practices, even though the king still thought his son to be too young. Most of the other boys his age had started their training a few years earlier, but Thranduil's overprotective nature held Legolas back.

He hoped he did not make an error in judgment by giving the prince permission to engage in such dangerous activities. Sure, his son needed to learn how to fight and archery was one key area he needed to learn, but if the king had his way, Legolas would still be in the safety of the study halls - not on the archery fields.

"And... his skill is remarkable." the servant shrugged his shoulders slightly, offering his statement as unbelievable. Thranduil looked baffled. "He is a natural, your highness. His virtuosity is still green yet and he has a way to perfect his archery, but he is clearly a master in the works - a true marksman."

Thranduil sat back in his chair relieved that there was no ill news being reported, but his hard stare never left Galion.

"Good." the king nodded, but Thranduil's easy approval seemed to halt there. That did not sit well with the butler. Galion watched his king intently hoping for another remark, but when the room fell silent, the servant looked off, trying once more to find the right way to engage his king.

"I... know there will be infinite practices in his future, My Lord, but... as his father, I think you need to be there and witness this landmark day in your son's life." Galion stated with caution. He swallowed hard for he knew he was walking a thin line with his remarks, but the king needed to hear his concerns.

He was relieved, however, when Thranduil dropped his gaze rather than let his temper flair in protest. Galion continued.

"I do not doubt you are busy, my lord, and we are entering a very strenuous peak, but I know that with your due diligence, you can make up the lost time easily... I cannot fathom that anyone will find fault in your decision to set work aside for a few hours... Your support would mean the world to Legolas. You and he have not spent any quality time together in recent weeks - or at least that I am aware of -"

"Because I am busy, Galion... and Legolas knows this." Thranduil reprimanded lightly, but the servant bowed his head in respect to help cut off any anger.

"Yes, my lord... I know I have no formalities in running a kingdom and have very little insight on the inner workings, but pressing issues have been dealt with for weeks on end. Could a few more hours... possibly make all the difference in your work?"

Thranduil was actually a little stunned. The king took a deep breath, but clenched his jaw as the unusual lecture he received rolled around in his head. He looked off again and the servant used the break to elaborate his thoughts.

"I know that I have been bold in my words today, your highness, and I hope that you do pardon them. Ultimately, you do as you see fit and any decision you come to will be a good one... but I would hate for you to lose an opportunity to be a part of this milestone in Legolas' life. More and more of them are slipping by and your son has come to accept that his father will not be present during most of it because of duties that take precedence over him... And that breaks my heart. He deserves more... Of course he understands - as does everyone. You are doing your best by all our people and your duties are of utmost importance... but a son needs his father..."

Thranduil looked up to see the pained worry reflected in the silvery depths of his butler's eyes. The heartfelt words were dismal and the king nearly felt sick. Subconsciously the Woodland king brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck as his inner turmoil began to build.

Had he really been neglecting his son like that?

Thranduil looked at his desk and the heaps of paperwork that had been a nuisance for nearly a month. He could remember each time he read them and when they were laid in various stacks... but he had a harder time recalling the last time he had seen his son for any extended period, other than at meals or passing him in the halls.

He did not want to make Legolas a second priority, but the king realized it happened regardless. He swore an oath to serve and protect his people and it was only through constant work that he could fulfill his promises. Though living a royal life was grand, he had to forfeit some luxuries to ensure he did not fail an entire kingdom of people. The days were growing darker as evil forces were becoming a stronger presence and he was doing everything in his power to keep Mirkwood safe to ensure his people had a protected home, including his son.

Galion shifted a little nervously. The silence was unbearable, but he was more apprehensive to hear of Thranduil's answer rather than how his words were perceived. It was hard to watch Mirkwood's prince grow up in the care of others and the personal servant could not simply stand by and watch as the distance between father and son grew. Thranduil was a good king, but he should not be lacking as a father.

It was nothing short of a miracle that Legolas was such a bright, happy boy despite the hardships he faced in his personal life. His mother was lost many years prior and his father rarely had time for him. It was all thanks to those around Legolas who helped pick up the slack where Thranduil could not fulfill. Palace staff and family friends took to more prominent roles in the prince's life to make sure he had the support all growing children needed to thrive and transition into a confident, well rounded adult.

But even the supplemental care did not compare to having his real father beside him.

The servant began to purse his lips lightly in frustrated dismay. He was hoping Thranduil would be able to set work aside for his son's sake, but the inner debate in his king was clearly difficult. Perhaps it was too much to ask from Thranduil.

The servant stood in the room patiently, not knowing how to dismiss himself. His goal wasn't exactly to make his king feel bad, but calling an end his own visit would surly voice disappointment - another stress that his king did not need. Galion looked to the window to gauge the time. If Thranduil truly felt like he could not make it to watch his son, Galion would gladly step in and resume watching the prince and cheer him on.

"How is it that I always allow this to happen?" Thranduil asked out-loud, but it lacked the usual spark of a question, becoming a self-critique. The king shook his head sadly and let his lost expression roam over his desk once more.

Galion could hear the self-disgust in Thranduil's voice and it made the servant nervous.

"Your Grace... time is not lost." Galion offered softly which grabbed Thranduil's attention. "You cannot change your workload, nor can you change the time in which you have dedicated to it in the past... but there are still a few hours left of sunlight right now and practice is far from over."

Thranduil nodded mutely, but the advice was taken to heart. A decision seemed to suddenly take Thranduil and the quilled pen was dumped into the holder and the king shuffled through his papers to find the buried ink cork. After capping the well, he stood to his feet fluidly. He met his servant's eyes and the king gave a small sad smile, giving voice to the fact that Galion was right.

"Can you show me where Legolas is?" the king asked, but his heart constricted once more at his own question. He did not even know where his own son was.

Galion was only too happy to oblige and he inclined his head softly. "Of course, my lord."

* * *

The usual sounds of the archery range could easily be heard well before it came into view. The sharp whistle of the deadly projectiles cut the air and embedded themselves in the hay-bale targets with a thud. Shouts from the instructors pointed out individuals, verbally highlighting any errors made by the inexperienced shooters. Other conversations rang out clearly in the glen deemed for practice and the area was an organized chaos of imperfect skill.

Galion and Thranduil approached slowly through the trees, but the servant placed a hand on his king's shoulder to halt them before they were spotted. They looked around the glen, taking in the activity from a safe distance as the rest of the people carried on unaware that their high lord was watching from afar.

Young elves were lined up before their respective targets and quivers full of arrows were staked upright in the ground beside them. At their backs, the boy's fathers stood and watched on as their sons fought to control the taught weapons. With shaky aim, the arrows flew in a scattered ambush, leaving the far side of the glen strewn with arrows. The targets remained mostly untouched, but an occasional shaft protruded from a set of ringed lines, hitting its mark aided solely by luck. The trees standing at the receiving end of the range resembled prickly pillars as they caught the majority of the stray arrows. The rest of the broken shafts lay in a splintered mess on the ground.

One target, however, was far different from the norm. Most of the arrows fired at the structure struck true, although the missiles never hit a ring. The outer skirts of this single target was taking the brunt of shooting, voicing accuracy was not exactly keen, but clearly pointed out better skill than the rest.

Thranduil quickly located the one currently setting his sights on the target and he was nothing short of amazed to find his son drawing the bow string back. The young prince stood alone while the other boys were accompanied by elders and the elfling took his time in honing in on the target. The youth showed remarkable patience while he fought with the wobble in the bow. When he loosened his hold on the string, the arrow jumped fast to sink into the far corner of the target.

"Wonderful shot, Legolas!" Someone called out and the king looked to the father and son cluster standing at the ready mark next to his son. It was one of the prince's closest friends, Valiändier, along with his father Valdin who was assisting with the practice. The adult was looking past his own child to pay a complement to the prince's last shot and Legolas turned a bright, pleased smile to the praise since no one was standing with him.

A lump formed in Thranduil's throat after watching the small exchange. The king was grateful that others took notice to the prince and kept his confidence up since Thranduil was not doing it himself, but it was a sad case regardless. His son should not be there alone nor should someone else's father divide his time between his own child and the king's.

The father and son duo were having less success with their training. The target opposite of the youth was blank and Valiändier looked less-than-thrilled in being here since he did not take to archery as well as his friend.

"Did you see what Legolas did?" Valdin questioned his son and Valiändier nodded grimly. "Try it again." The father encouraged and plucked an arrow out of the quiver for his son to take.

The youth took the arrow with a drawn out sigh before he stood on his mark, then pulled the string back and fired the bow. The arrow went far too wide and within a split second became another lost casualty among the trees.

"You were close that time, Val'!" Legolas tried to sound excited for his friend, but Valiändier frowned.

"I think my bow is broken!" The elfling said and let his shoulders stoop to dramatize his words. He huffed in disappointment after his last failed shot.

"Valiändier..." his father tried to reprimand, but he shook his head with a small chuckle. "Your bow is not broken."

"Why, then, is Legolas hitting his target? He has a better bow than I!" the child wailed.

"Legolas' bow is the same as yours _ion-nin_. He is hitting his target because he is * _listening_ *. You need to hold your form." The elder elf gripped Valiändier's shoulders and pushed and pulled the child into the correct stance while the father lightly kicked his son's feet apart to get him in the correct ready position.

"You need to stand like this, Valiändier - straight."

"I was!"

"No you were not... Now, when you line your sights up, you lose your posture. You need to keep your stance just-like-this." Valdin punctuated to try and embed this position into the young one's mind. "Try again."

With another sigh, the youth pulled the string back. The bow quaked in his grasp and the boy grit his teeth with the strain of keeping the bow taught.

"Keep your-" his father started to correct the youth's lacking stance, but Valiändier let the arrow slip too soon and once again, it was sent into the depths of the forest.

Valdin rolled his eyes closed and shook his head.

" _Ada_!" Valiändier cried with more disappointment. "It is not working!"

"It is called practice, Valiändier. It will not come to you in one day."

"It is for Legolas..." the child mumbled and looked to the prince standing beside him. Legolas had another arrow notched and after pulling the bowstring back, he fired at the target, hitting the outer rim once more.

Valiändier's father gave his son a pat on the shoulder, but left the disgruntled youth who was losing interest in the sport. Rather, Valdin made his way over the prince.

"Patience is something you also need to learn, _ion-nin_. Perhaps you can take a lesson from your friend!... Here, Legolas..." He said and Valdin stepped up behind the prince. "...try this." The adult reached for an arrow and handed it to the prince. "Do as you just did."

Legolas fit the arrow to the string and pulled back, but the elder elf stopped him.

"Hold!" He commanded and the prince froze. "Legolas, your form... not bad! See Valiändier. Look how Legolas is holding his stance."

The elder elf used the form of the prince as an example to illustrate his point, but there was some minor tweaking that needed to be done. Carefully, Valdin placed his hand between the prince's shoulder blades and applied a little pressure to push the child into straightening up ever so slightly.

"There - perfect!..." Valdin exclaimed. "Now, aim."

The prince took to the command and Legolas ducked his face to the butt of the arrow, pulling it back even more.

"Fire!"

The prince let the projectile loose and once again, his arrow made contact with the hay bale target.

"Well done, my prince!" Valdin smiled, pleased that his advice was not going to waste and the elder elf lightly ruffled the prince's crown of flaxen hair before moving back to stand with his son. "Try it again Legolas."

"Aye, sir!" the prince called out with determination and he reached for a new arrow.

"Now, Valiändier... watch." Valdin stated, reaching his son's side and the youth's head fell back with a groan of defeat. Valiändier was so done with this right now.

Thranduil watched the whole scene silently and his heart swelled with pride. * _His_ * son was the one excelling in this sport and any reservations he may have had on allowing Legolas to join in on this vanished quickly.

"See my lord, he is a natural." Galion whispered to the king as another arrow was fired. Thranduil nodded slowly and tore his gaze away from his son to address his servant.

"...Thank you, Galion." Thranduil said sincerely, but his few words said so much more than he voiced. It was a shame it took a lot of prompting from another to get him to be here. It should have never come to that and Thranduil had a lot of guilt to untangle later for relying on others to point out how to be a decent father. Despite his emotions, he did find a certain bit of relief knowing that the day was not a total loss. As his servant pointed out, he was here now; at the moment, that is what really counted.

Galion dipped his head kindly, but only held a hand out toward the prince. "Go, my lord." He bid quietly.

Thranduil clasped his butler on the shoulder as he pass, giving Galion one last sign of gratitude, then pushed his way out from the trees.

Legolas was on the ready with a new arrow and stood in place as he had been instructed to do. Valdin was off to the side coaching his son and his observations could easily be heard.

"Good Valiändier! Keep your shoulders up - just like I showed Legolas..." But the elder elf''s words seemed to drain at the end of his remark. Valdin caught sight of movement in from the corners of his eyes. As his son and the prince prepared to shoot, the elder elf abandoned his attentions to the children and straightened up.

"My lord!" Valdin greeted the king with surprise and immediately bowed to Thranduil who was approaching them.

The boys let their arrows fly, but it took Legolas off guard to hear his friend's father give such a formal remark. He looked first Valdin, then to the approaching form of his father walking from the forest path.

"... _Adar_?"

It seemed all activity ceased on the archery range and the people followed Valdin's example. Everyone, including the children, bowed gracefully in respect to their monarch and a nervous silence filled the glen.

Legolas took a quick glance over the bowed heads of his comrades before turning back to his father. He had no idea why Thranduil was out here and while the king looked pleased, this just did not seem right. His father rarely left his study as of late - and if he did, it was only to get to a meeting with his council to take his meals in a hurry. A touch of doubt reach the fair child's brow and he watched in silence as his father came to stand before him.

There was a long awkward pause and the youth gulped. His eyes could not help but shy away from the king's gentle gaze and the prince began to fidget.

Thranduil turned to the people still stooped in respect and with a relaxed command he bid them to rise. "As you were."

The people stood and began to pick up where they left off and it took a few moments for the glen to get back to its usual bustle. Beside them, Valdin resumed his lessons with his awestruck son. They kept their voices low, all the while keeping a cautious eye on the apprehensive prince.

Thranduil turned back to his son, but did not really know how to approach him. It was pitiful and he knew it, but the king actually felt nervous to be out here. Legolas looked far from happy to see him and the king wondered if his weeks of neglect really did affect his son in a way Thranduil never noticed before. He hoped not.

"What's wrong?" The youth turned a worried stare to his father, finally gaining the courage to look into the elder elf's features to try and read for himself what lead his father to come out here unannounced.

"Wrong?" Thranduil questioned and his smooth circumference looked lost. "There is nothing wrong _ion-nin_." The king said easily and he gave his son a warm smile.

"Then why are you here?" Legolas just did not understand.

"Does something need to be wrong for a father to come watch his son?" the king asked sadly. This was not the reaction he was hoping to receive from Legolas and the fact that the youth seemed almost scared twisted a knot in the king's stomach.

"N-no!" The youth stammered, but that still did not seem to answer his question.

"I heard you were taking the ranges by storm." The king said and looked past the prince to Legolas' course full of fired arrows. "And it seems my ears have not failed me."

Thranduil's easy smile deepened which seemed to ease Legolas' unusual anxiety. Delight began to tug at the corners of the prince's lips and he searched his father's face to see if this was some sort of joke.

"You heard...?"

"I heard you were doing very well and I came out to see it for myself."

The elfling was stunned and a little unsure what say. He turned to look at his marks at the far end of range.

"I... well, I mean... I am not missing the target." Legolas stammered. He knew he was not good, for he had a long way to go if he hoped to hit the rings of the arrow trap, but he felt giddy inside at hearing his raw skill gained his father's attention.

"So I have seen."

The king and prince stood artlessly on the green. Silence settled between them with ease and Thranduil watched as the other children took their best shots. Now that the king was here it seemed they carried themselves a little more adult-like and were trying their best to take better shots, but nothing could outshine the prince.

"Legolas?" A soft voice piped up and interrupted the incommodious conversation between the royal family. Both king and prince turned to Valdin who was in the middle of setting his son up for another shot. "Why do you not show your father what you can do." He gave an encouraging grin to the young prince, hoping it would spur more interaction between Thranduil and Legolas who felt too reserved around each other.

Legolas's cheeks began to take on a pink tint from the request. "Uh, yes... That is... if you want to see it, Ada." The child turned to his father who jumped his brows astound.

"Of course I would like to see it!" Thranduil urged with excitement.

An overwhelming joy took hold of the elfling and the prince worked hard to keep it contained. However, he could not hide the grin that felt as though it were permanently carved into his face. He turned back to his target and reached for a new arrow and quickly got into form.

Adrenaline surged forth in the child as he pulled the string back. He could not believe his father was here watching him, but his jubilation shifted to worry.

What if he missed? Now, more than ever, he wanted to take his best shot in hopes of impressing his father.

The usual wobble in the bow seemed to intensify with an uncontrollable rush that had him. He did his best to concentrate, but he felt as though his power over the weapon had been compromised. The child took a deep breath to clear his body and mind.

Quickly, he took aim and fired the bow with a prayer.

In an instant, the prince's fears came true. His amateur accuracy was rushed and his arrow flew past the target into the woods. His delighted smile drained and he looked dead-faced into the trees. He was so disappointed with himself.

"I still miss sometimes..." Legolas began to say and it sounded as though he were trying to either explain why his shot failed or apologize, which sounded absurd to his father. Of course he would miss. It was only his first day.

Thranduil sighed with a smile. His son was so ambitious - even he could see that with his limited time spent with the youth, but the trait was not hard to disregard for it had a tendency to run in the family. Thranduil knew the feeling well; it was deeply embedded in his core and no doubt his son was facing this now.

"Well..." Thranduil speculated with a hint of mirth. "If you were aiming at nothing, then you found your mark." He knew he could use the effects of humor to help ease the unsettling tension and hoped it would lighten the gloom around Legolas.

"I was aiming for the target." the prince's counter sounded dead.

Thranduil sobered a little, but he did not let the statement deter him. It seemed his fatherly instincts kicked in and his heart ached for his son - not because the boy missed his target, but that the youth was so determined to be his best around his father; as if formalities mattered more to him and the prince was acting as a king's subject, rather than Thranduil's child.

With a soft sigh, Thranduil looked for inspiration. He moved forward and placed a gentle hand on Legolas' shoulder, causing the youth to pull his sights from the forest.

"Perfecting your tactics?... Shoot where they are going, not where they've been, perhaps?" Thranduil smiled fondly at his son and he could see the beginnings of a smirk pull at the prince's lips.

"Targets do not move, Ada." The prince said. Despite trying to remain let down, his voice took on a lightness of hidden laughter.

Thranduil gave a shrug. "Then... try again."

With a nod, the boy proceeded. The arrow was strung, the bow pulled back, he took aim... and fired.

The arrow sounded loudly, whistling until it made contact with the cluster of other missiles on the far reaches of the target. Legolas' face lit up with triumph and he looked up to his father to see his reaction.

The king was pleased.

"Very good, _ion-nin_." the king's praise was smooth, but undoubtedly impressed. "Very, very good."

The prince reached for another arrow and followed his ritual, sinking the shaft in the unpainted area of the target that was already sprouted with sticks and fletchings.

"It seems you are running out of room." the king noted while the elfling plucked another arrow from the quiver.

"I know." Legolas pulled the bow back once more and aimed for the bulls-eye. "I cannot reach center. I keep hitting the edges."

The king watched the youth tuck his head down to aim his weapon. Though his form was good, something was off in his stance and Thranduil stepped in.

"Here, Legolas..." Thranduil halted his son and the elfling let the tension from his bow slowly as his father knelt in the grass behind him. "As you were."

The prince resumed his ready stance.

Without a word, Thranduil leaned into the prince's space. Carefully, he gripped Legolas' elbows and pulled them up a few inches while speaking words of advice into the youth's ear.

"You never bow down to your weapon, _ion-nin_. * _You_ * command it and tell * _it_ * what to do. Whether it be an arrow or sword, ax or spear, it should always work * _for you_ *... Bring the arrow * _up_ * to your sight-line. This helps with your posture and you may feel that it is easier to hold the bow steady, do you not?"

"...I do." the prince whispered plainly so as not to lose his concentration.

"Good, now... breath in... breath out and release!"

The arrow flew straight and true, piercing the middle set of rings and proving to be his closet shot yet. It was not a mark on the bulls-eye, but it was impressive nonetheless.

The prince turned a stunned look to his father. "It... it worked!"

Thranduil nodded proudly and handed him another arrow. The prince drew his bow and Thranduil leaned in close to line his sights up with his son's.

"Aim a little more to the right." The king's voice was not much higher than a whisper and his breath stirred the child's hair. Legolas leaned back slightly to accommodate the direction.

"No, no..." the king scolded lightly. "Rather than change your stance…. pivot your torso. Use your hand to reposition the riser and let your body flow with it… If need be, take a small step to adjust. Your feet are not tacked to the ground. Use your freedoms." Thranduil reached out and tapped the hand that gripped the bow. "Only move this hand. Pivot to keep up. Keep your stance, step if you need to."

Legolas did just that. The bow was released with a twang and the arrow found a solid strike, this time even closer to the center goal.

" _Ada_!" The elfling whispered with amazement. His excitement was keen and he looked wide-eyed at the target. Each of his shots were getting closer.

The king squinted at the target, but a cocky smirk replaced it. "You will be hitting the mark soon."

Thranduil's confidence was uplifting and the child was eager to try again.

The father and son locked themselves in their private world and tried time and time again to tweak the attempts of the inexperienced archer. They did not notice that the range around them fell silent. The afternoon drug on and dusk began its descent upon them. One by one the young students, their fathers and the few instructors departed from the area, leaving the king and prince alone in the darkening glen.

The lack of light did not faze the duo and it was not until another person stepped in and forced them back to reality.

"Excuse me, my lords." A voice spoke up from behind the king and prince and they looked up from their intense focus to see Galion watching them fondly. Thranduil blinked in surprise, taking in the dark appearance of forest, stunned that time snuck up on him once more and it passed without his notice. "I came to inform you that the evening meal is ready and awaits you."

"Oh... Allow us to pick up. We will be right there." The king smiled to his servant.

"No need my lord. I have already addressed it with the groundskeeper. He will be out here soon to pick it up for you. Leave whenever you like." The butler bowed gracefully and turned to leave, not wishing to disrupt any more time between the father and son. He was stopped, however, by the very mention of his own name.

"Galion..." Thranduil called out, his tone taking on a seriousness and the servant looked directly to his king with question. "...Thank you... for everything."

The servant did not need any clarification to know what the king was really saying. He simply nodded, happy that he could reconnect the bond between his king and prince, even if it was for just a short while. Things were bound to go astray again, but perhaps this instance would make Thranduil more aware of lost time.

The servant headed back to the palace.

"Well, Legolas..." Thranduil turned to his son. "I think it is time to call it quits for the day, what say you?"

"Aye. It is getting hard to see... and my fingers hurt." the child claimed and he looked to the pads of his index and middle finger. A deep flush took hold of the smooth skin and the beginnings of blisters began to sprout from the unaccustomed use of pulling a rough bowstring.

Thranduil sucked his breath through his teeth in notice. "We shall take you to the healing wing. Blisters will become a routine part of your bow practice. Better learn how to fix them so they do not slow you down. Come."

Together they made the short walk back to the palace and entered the halls unnoticed. First priority was the care of his son and the king set his destination with Legolas in tow. The maze of hallways twisted to different locations, but the journey was relatively quiet until Thranduil spoke up.

"I am proud of you, Legolas." The king said and glanced at his son who mimicked his father's light return.

"I had fun today, _Ada_." Legolas said, but he did not give his father any time to speak. Their quiet walk left him with the opportunity to think over their time together and he was surprised that his father knew archery so well. He had never seen Thranduil in action before. " _Ada_?... Who taught you how to shoot?"

The innocent question caught the king off guard. "I... was taught by my father, initially... Then took up formal lessons just as you are taking now."

"You are good." the youth smiled. "And a good teacher! I hope one day I can hit the center."

"I have no doubt that you will... Keep practicing and I think you will be hitting it far sooner than you think."

"I hope you will able to see it!"

Thranduil's steps faltered and an arrow of guilt sliced through his core. His voice became distant when his son's words stunned him. "... As do I."

Legolas * _hoped_ * his father could see a simple feat.

And so did Thranduil.

Their harsh reality came crashing back to the king. It was unfeasible to make it to every one of his son's practice sessions; royal duties needed to be dealt with and it would be more likely that Legolas made the monumental shot while his father was tucked inside his halls, detained in a meeting or dealing with paperwork. That disappointed the king to no end.

"Legolas… Come with me a moment..." The king said seriously and made a snap decision to lead his child on a detour from the healing wings. They would get back on track to care for the prince's injuries in a moment. Legolas followed his father without question.

The doors to the king's royal office came into view and the wood doors were firmly pushed open to allow entry. It was dark inside and the prince halted in the threshold while his father made it to his desk. The king searched for some matches and after lighting a few taper candles for light, he turned to a storage closet and began rifling through the piles of stored items.

"What are you doing, Ada?" Legolas asked and looked the colossal mess in his father's study. His work piled everywhere and it was hard to tell if there was ever going to be an ending in sight to the king's labor. It sure did not look like it.

"Ah! Here!" Thranduil's voice was muffled through the wall of the closet and he pulled out a long wooden box from the back of the cove. Without thought, the king placed it directly on top of the scripts littering his desk and he went to work removing the lid.

Legolas stepped closer, curiosity pulling him in and he watched as his father pulled out some packing materials until he reached the hidden treasure.

Slowly, Thranduil pulled out a small bow, but it was far from ordinary. The handle was intricately carved with an ornate fancy that resembled vines and forest growth. The lumber was the richest color and the natural highlights in the mahogany fibers reflected the candlelight in in tones of gold.

The child looked over the item as Thranduil inspected the bow, turning it over to marvel at weapon, then pulled the string back to give it a test. The motion looked a little goofy, for the bow was far too small for the adult. When the tension was loosened, the king held the bow out to his son who took it tentatively.

"This is a bow my father gifted to me as a child after I won my first archery clout." Thranduil began his explanation.

Legolas traced his fingers over the smooth wood, feeling the perfect craftsmanship that went into making this gorgeous bow.

"... Grandfather gave this to you?" He asked in wonder. He never met his grandfather, but heard stories about his greatness and he was honored to be holding something that was once close to his forbearer.

"He did... I want you to have it." Thranduil said and Legolas' eyes abruptly raised to look at his father in question. "Legolas..." Thranduil said, but sighed heavily and looked off, seeking the right words to get his important message across.

"...I'm sorry Legolas... I have been insanely busy as of late and to be honest, I did not even realize the amount of time that has passed me by. I am only getting glimpses of you growing into a fine young adult and it is not right... I do not want to choose my work over you... but I have to." Thranduil did his best to explain.

"I know, _Ada_." Legolas searched his father's anguished face.

"Child, I would give anything I could to be with you more, but I am afraid that I would make a promise to you, then break it in the not-too-distant future. Believe me, I want to promise you that we will have more moments like we shared today - and we will - just... I am not so sure there will be any regularity to them. I will do my best to make more time for you... That I can do - I can promise to try, but that is ...unfortunately... my best offer."

" _Ada_ , I know... you are a king." The child stated, indicating he had far more understanding than Thranduil gave him credit for.

"Legolas... my Greenleaf... Take this bow. Know that I am always with you, even when I am not. Use it during your practices and let it aid you in mastering your skill. Let it see you through your first rounds of competition - all of which I will try to see. But if I cannot..." Thranduil nodded to the bow in his son's hands as he felt his voice become strained at the pathetic offering to his precious child.

The elfling looked to the gift in his hands and Legolas' lips began to quiver with an onslaught of his own emotions. His golden crown barely nodded, but suddenly the child flung his weight into his father, wrapping his arms around the elder in a tight embrace.

He * _did_ * understand what Thranduil was having difficulty saying - and he had all along.

However, hearing the loving words settled his heart and solidified his interpretation on why he rarely had a father now - but it did not matter anymore. He would * _always_ * have his father.

"I will, _Ada_... I promise. Thank you."

Thranduil pulled his son away from him only to kneel on the stone floor so he could return the embrace.

"I love you Legolas. Do not ever doubt that. I love you more than anything… more than life itself."

Legolas tightened his hold on his father. That last statement had a special meaning to him. It was something his father always told him when they discussed his mother and he would forever hold each word of the phrase in his heart. But now, his father's love was added to it. For weeks, even he could not ignore the feeling of being parentless, but right now, in this moment, he could feel his parent's love encompassing him and he absorbed every speck of it.

" _Ada?_ " The youth said but paused to clear his throat to keep his voice clear. "One day we will have more time together. When I am older and can help with the kingdom - I can help with all this and perhaps you will not be as busy anymore."

Thranduil's eyes flooded at the unbelievable statement, but the king let lose a small chuckle and drew back.

"You are * _volunteering_ * to to dive into this mess?"

"...We can do it together."

There was no holding back the tears any longer and the king left them to their own will. "Oh, child." the king was speechless. Once again he enfolded his son into his arms, not willing to lose another moment to the passage of time.


End file.
